Stunned, but in a Good Way

First, I want to say Happy Birthday to my Anna who is now a big 3 year old.  She is by far my most laid-back child, but she is still full of energy and determination.  She is so easy to love.

I'm sure that if you have been following long with Henry's story that you will be happily surprised with the news that is coming next.

Henry has finally caught on.  He is finally a Good Eater.  It was touch and go the first week.  He was hostile and angry the first days as he worked to get my milk supply up.  After ten weeks of solely pumping my supply wasn't fabulous, to be sure.  There were nursing sessions that seemed hopeful, but for the most part he didn't seem to be nursing well and he never seemed contented.  We weighed him at the clinic after a week and found that he hadn't gained any weight at all.  Since he wasn't loosing any weight, our doctor thought he could have another week to try.  Her tone was rather neutral--He wasn't loosing weight, which was good, but it was time for him to "fish or cut bait".  At 42 weeks, we had certainly been patient enough with him.  I brought him in again on Friday for another weigh-in and found that he'd gained an ounce and a half!  We were very encouraged.

Today we went in again (!) and found that he had gained a whopping six ounces over the weekend!  So, I think breastfeeding is working out after all.  Really, I'm as surprised as you are.  And THANK GOD.  We figured out the cost of formula feeding and it would cost approximately  $130 for Henry to get 4 oz bottles, to say nothing of the cost as he gets bigger.  How do people afford this?  That's more than what we spend on a week's groceries for our WHOLE FAMILY.

I'm so, so glad that this is finally working out.  He will still need to get two high-calorie bottles a day because of his prematurity, but it will be so much better (read: cheaper and easier) to breastfeed the rest of the time.

If you listed closely, I'm sure you can hear my sigh of relief.  Exhale.

Baby-Feeding

It has not been easy to feed this baby. I won't belabor the point by listing off all of the things we've been though to get Henry breastfeeding, but I've reached the point where I'm hanging on by sheer stubbornness and force of will. This is my last week.

I started out on this path pumping and waiting and pumping and trying to nurse because it's really the best thing for me and for Henry. I know how great breastfeeding can be so it wasn't hard. I moved past my best intentions and started relying on patience. I figured I could wait it out and that eventually this would work. Past patience I relied on blind faith that somehow this would take off and that Henry would be able nurse eventually, provided I could keep a supply for when he was ready. Past blind faith I relied on determination--This WILL work, provided I could keep the supply, wait it out, and keep giving him opportunities to practice. Now I'm just being stubborn. I don't know how to quit. I get just enough encouragement from Henry to keep plugging away, but not enough to make this worthwhile. It's just enough success to make me hope that by next week (it's always well, maybe NEXT week. . . ) he will be better.

My honor is satisfied. I know I've put my full effort into this and I know I have done my best. I know that there is nothing that I could have done differently, though I obviously wish there could have been a different outcome. I have been patient and worked hard, but right now it doesn't look promising.

These are my goals for the week: I will not get emotional about this. I will keep pumping as needed to keep up my supply. I will nurse Henry as he is able and I will give him a bottle if he isn't alert enough to nurse every three hours. At the end of the week I will bring him in for a weight-check. If his weight is suffering and he hasn't improved his performance at feeding times, it's off to Target I go to spend his college money on formula. I may spend the rest at the liquor store on some really nice whiskey.

Cheers.

Finished Project Report

I didn't mean to leave such a bummer post for so long.  We've been busy with a growing baby.  He has a weight-check appointment this evening and I'm expecting him to be near nine pounds.  It certainly feels that way as I carry him around in my sling.

This is what I finished today.  The yarn was a gift from Allison at the beginning of my hospital stay this summer.  I actually finished the sweater when I was in the hospital still, but I just bought buttons last night.  This sweater is so soft.  The yarn is Blue Sky organic cotton.  I have a wee bit of yarn left and I'm wondering if I could knit a washcloth for Rachel.  She doesn't have a dishwasher so she might like a special washcloth.  Organic, even.  

When Henry wakes up again I'll make him try it on.  I think he'll even wear it to his doctor's appointment tonight!

Grieve

I knew from the beginning that Henry might be my last baby. Apart from having high-risk pregnancies and harrowing deliveries, we felt like three children would be a good fit for our family. We hadn't decided for certain, though, and had planned on leaving the door open for a couple of years to see if we might find that our family had room for another child after all.

After our misadventures this summer, however, it would be irresponsible to take the risk of becoming pregnant again. It was a miracle that I stayed pregnant for so long after my water broke. And I don't say that lightly.

What happened for Henry came very close to being very bad. I can't imagine how this could have ended differently and still have been "okay", even though it has been difficult to go through. The decision has been made for us, it would seem. And even though I knew from the beginning that this could be my last go at having a baby, I find that the idea makes me pretty sad.

I wonder if women are always a little sad, or wistful, when it becomes apparent that they've had their last fuzzy headed baby. A friend from college was one of 13 children and when her youngest brother was three, it became clear to her mom that this would likely be her last child. And she was sad. After 13 babies, one whould think that she would be a little relieved to close the door on nighttime feedings and toilet training, but I also think I understand. Of some things, there is never enough. How could you ever have enough of that warm little weight snuggled on your chest, fluffy baby hair rubbed against your nose? After three or thirteen children, it is still the End and I guess you always wonder who that "One More" child would have been.

I certainly feel the loss of the healthy pregnancies and babies that most women expect to have. I try not to think about it too much because it just upsets me and I'm not sure there's anything to be gained by getting angry or sad or feeling like I've been cheated. It is what it is and I'm satisfied by the good outcomes my babies have had. But I need to let go of the fourth baby I felt entitled to choose along with the healthy pregnancies and the robust newborns and the carefree cold/flu season.

It will be a long process, one that starts with moving my baby girl clothing out of storage and into the home of someone who can use it. I walk by those tubs in the basement marked "Girl: 0-6 months" and I know that they will have to go. If you loose your left leg, do you still keep the left shoe when you buy a new pair? There won't be another girl to save it for and I find it as unnecessary as the proverbial left shoe.

It should go, and it will. But not yet. Most of it will likely get saved for my sister in law Rachel, but I am strongly repressing the urge to give it to my friends who have baby girls already. I love seeing the hand-me-downs running around on little ones and it might be too much to have to wait for Rachel to have a baby (who may have only boys!).

Having the choice made for me is one part blessing, another part burden. I'm not sure which has the greater share. After some distance from the events of the summer I'll be able to close this door with greater clarity and peace. I think I'm looking forward to that.

Fall Clothing

Do any of you remember wearing heavy-weight sweater tights when you were little?  For two years now I've looked for these tights so Anna can wear her twirly dresses in the winter without freezing her knees.  In lieu of these tights I've put leggings under her dresses, but I'm wondering if these tights are still available.

Also, as of last week Henry was 6 lbs 7 oz.  He gained a whole pound in a week!  This week I'm guessing he'll be about 7 lbs.  He's quite the little man!  Right now his whole world is sleeping, eating, diaper changes and fuzzy sleepers.  Not too bad if you ignore the occasional assault by his loving brother and sister.

Tricky Questions

We don't take Henry out much.  He was discharged from the NICU right at the beginning of cold and flu season so we need to keep him out of public places.  Besides, he needs to conserve his energy for growing.  One place I do need to take him, however, is the clinic for weekly weight checks.  The doctor needs to make sure he is gaining weight appropriately and adjust his calorie intake as needed.

We had an appointment last Tuesday and while I was there, something was brought to my attention by the other patients in the waiting room.  Five or six people must have asked me how old Henry is and I had no idea how to answer!  At first, I just said he was six weeks old--which is true--but anyone who has ever seen a newborn can tell that my wee five pound baby is not six weeks old.  Then I said that he was six weeks old, but that he was born premature.  I don't mind sharing what happened, obviously, but I don't know if I'm giving them more information than they want and I'm not always up for a long conversation about HOW early he was, HOW long he was in the hospital, HOW much he weighed when he was born, etc.  I can certainly chat someone up once in an evening, but five or six times?  I'm not sure I'm up for it.

This is really a non-issue, though.  We'll be taking him to the clinic once a week and that will be the extent of his outings until he is larger and his corrected age won't raise so many eyebrows.  And it's not like I find the questions or the conversation offensive or distressing in any way.  It's just a lot to talk about with strangers in a waiting room.  Over and over again.  Sometime, though, it's just hard to know what to say.

Infant Conspirator

I think Henry is conspiring against me.

I'm sure most mothers think this is true of their babies, but I have evidence.

Henry sleeps all day. Deep, heavy sleep broken only by his baby grunts and gurgles. It's nearly impossible to wake him to nurse for most feedings. I am usually able to wake him enough to take a sleepy bottle of breastmilk or formula, but that's it. I'm assuming that this is due to his prematurity and that his alertness will improve as he grows closer to term.

Despite days of bottle feeding and pumping, the last two evenings Henry has decided to be AWAKE! with the ALERTNESS! and in a desperate, crying need to NURSE! and to nurse MORE! Really, just like a real baby.

This is the only time during the day that his behavior resembles that of a regular newborn and I am wondering this: WHY, Henry, WHY would you pick the most aggravating part of a newborn's day to start behaving like a full-term baby?

I'm pretty sure I have enough milk--the other night I fed him as much as he wanted and I still sat down and pumped a record amount afterward. I am left to believe that Henry is sleeping so much during the day so that he will have plenty of energy to keep me occupied from dinner through the kids' bedtime.

If anyone had any theories or helpful hints, I'd be glad to hear them!